Knife Point Pen
Still was the ink, and I stared into the black liquid to create
Looking in it I saw a thousand memories, a few smiles, yet a huge volume of sorrow
Dipping the sharp steel end of my pen into it, I felt a few tears reach my lip, salty bitter taste
Dreams fell, and hope lost itself in my infinite memory, all lost in tomorrow
As I piece my soul back together I see the unknown come to life
I run again, I run to hide from all my trouble, yet I run face to face into strife
Will the ink dry to fast, as to impede me from delivering my message
I write, I weep unto an empty piece of papyrus and I see not a message
Men seem to desire, yet have nothing to with aquire
The music flows in the open air, and still is the moral thougth by the chorus
I seeketh a true pen, a true companion to my inner poet, a pen to admire
Soft, gently running onto my papyrus
Kissing each word onto my papyrus, and speaking by my hand
Alone I find a wish once wished by my heart long ago and I write
Will it be true, my wish come to me as I have come to you ever so right
I ran, an empty piece of paper followed, no message to be found, falling then I to the sand
I wrote with my finger, yet the wind swept soft the sand again no message there
Am I to be blocked unto this reality where one can not write, its not fair
See in my eyes, a powerful poem demands to be read
The ink dried, my message froze still, my pen was dead
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
